


sin bin schematics

by birlcholtz (justwhatialwayswanted)



Series: Zimbits Airport AU [3]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, M/M, New Year's Eve, Sin Bin Antics, The Samwell Mafia, because they're jack and bitty, don't let lardo and tater work together, everyone gets fined, jack and bitty get a ridiculous number of fines, seriously when i say everyone i mean EVERYONE, you will lose all your money
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 22:55:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9208838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justwhatialwayswanted/pseuds/birlcholtz
Summary: It's New Year's Eve, and it's time for the Samwell High Court and the Falconers Jury of Fineable Offenses to meet and decide exactly how much money their respective teammates owe them.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jxc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jxc/gifts).



“Mashkov,” Lardo says, extending her hand in greeting.

“Duan,” Tater replies, shaking it. “I like your sunglasses.”

“Thanks. They’re mandatory for members of the Samwell High Court during trials. Ransom and Holster have them too. So do Dex and Chowder. I have a pair for you too.” The sunglasses she hands to Tater are fairly simple, exactly the same as hers, and they were only like two bucks. (And got paid for with Sin Bin money.)

“You have trials?” Tater asks, putting on his new sunglasses.

“Only for multiple offenses over a short period of time. We used to have more of them when we didn’t have the Portable Sin Bin, since we couldn’t bring the usual one with us on roadies and had to tally up all the fines for when we got back. Now we only need to hold trials when all the Sin Bins are full and nobody can find a Ziploc bag to use. Or when we just ran out of Ziploc bags. Like now.”

“We probably could find, but I want to try the trial.”

“You don't have those in the NHL?”

“No. Always bring Sin Bin with us on roadies, no point.”

“Isn't it really bulky, though?”

“I carry, is no problem.”

“Yeah, I've never carried our Sin Bin beyond the bare minimum.”

“Make team carry it for you?”

“Yeah.”

“Makes sense. You fine teammates how much for taking last slice of pizza without asking?”

“Oh, pizza was never much of an issue for us, but we would fine the  _ shit _ out of people for doing that with pie.”

“Bitty’s pie?”

“Yeah, there were a few brawls over the last pieces. There still are, particularly whenever Bitty makes blueberry pie. Dex and Holster always fight over it.”

“How much do you fine for pie fighting?”

“Five bucks per person. Eight if it's blueberry.”

Tater laughs. “This is not big fine for Falconers.”

“Well, yeah, you all get your NHL salaries, while we were all broke college students when we set the amounts of the fines. Besides, the number of times that people fight over pie is actually ridiculous. Dex got fined almost a hundred dollars one semester just for pie, but Nursey offered to pay pie fines for him in the future, which I think was why Dex started limiting the amount of times he got into pie fights.”

“So Nursey does not have to pay much?”

“No, Dex refused, I think it was so Nursey wouldn’t offer again.”

“Ah. I... think I understand?”

“Their dynamic is confusing.”

“Yes.”

“Um, excuse me,” Chowder says. He’s wearing his High Court Sunglasses as well, as is Dex. Ransom and Holster aren’t, but they’re not on High Court duty tonight. “Aren’t we supposed to be having a trial right now?”

“Right, right,” Lardo says. She sets down her champagne flute, the better to seem menacing. “So, let’s see. How many fines did we tally up before the ball dropped in Times Square?”

“Fifty-seven,” Dex says.

“How many after?”

“Fourteen,” Tater says.

“How many of these due to Jack Zimmermann and Eric Bittle?”

“Not all of them!” Bitty says.

“True. Dex, please read off the list of charges.”

“We have adjusted fines for whether you are on Falconers or Samwell team,” Tater adds. “No eighty-dollar fines for college students.”

Dex starts going down the bullet-pointed list, which they had been contributing to in a Google doc and only printed out for the purpose of the trial. “By the way, these aren’t in order of when they happened, since we all just added them to the document wherever we could. Here goes. Snowy, staring at phone and texting with mushy smile on face for over an hour, thirty dollars. Chowder and Farmer, kissing one second before midnight instead of exactly at midnight, five dollars each. Holster, singing Auld Lang Syne obnoxiously loudly, ten dollars. Nursey, singing Auld Lang Syne obnoxiously off-key, fifteen dollars. Dex, staring at— hold it, what?”

Chowder takes the paper. “I wrote this one down,” he says by way of explanation. “Dex, staring at Nursey singing Auld Lang Syne with an obnoxiously fond expression on his face, as opposed to the wincing that would be expected from Nursey’s singing, five dollars.” Then he hands the paper back to Dex, who rolls his eyes at Chowder before taking it and continuing. Nursey doesn’t react to the maligning of his singing voice.

“Farmer, use of a pet name for significant other in public, two dollars. Marty, letting the champagne roll around so it overflows when the bottle is opened, ten dollars. Marty, opening a bottle of champagne so that the cork hits the ceiling— which was ‘swawesome, by the way, which is why the fine is lower than usual— five dollars. Ransom and Holster, calling each other ‘bro’ for more than five sentences in a row, ten dollars each. Lardo, dropping the forks for the pie, two dollars. Tater, not drying off shoes on the welcome mat, ten dollars... And the rest are  _ all _ because of Jack and Bitty.”

“That would be fifty-eight fines because of Jack and Bitty,” Lardo adds helpfully. “Even allowing for the fact that both of you get individual fines for one collaborative offense, that’s at least twenty-nine fineable offenses. How do you even  _ do _ that?”

“We are getting lots of money from tonight,” Tater says. “For both Falconers and Samwell.”

“And that’s not even counting Jack and Bitty’s fines,” Lardo agrees. 

“Jack and Bitty are being fined for sixteen counts of pet names, eight counts of being overly mushy where other people can hear them, four counts of PDA, and one count of disappearing for an unexplained twenty minutes while everyone else watched TV,” Dex reels off.

“Impressive,” Holster says admiringly. “When did you manage that?”

“I didn’t notice that,” Lardo says at the same time that Tater says, “When Anderson Cooper was wrapped in the shiny foil.”

“Do any of you have anything to say in your own defense?” Chowder asks the room at large. “That goes for all of us, by the way, not just Jack and Bitty. Personally, I don’t have anything to say in my own defense, but if anyone wants to argue that they’ve been unfairly fined, go for it. The floor is yours.”

There’s silence. People have tried to evade fines before, but that was before Chowder became part of the High Court of Samwell. Whatever sympathy he might have had for people getting fined excessively vanished once he became the one paying most of those excessive fines, so even if someone tries to argue with Chowder about their fine, he’ll shut them down before they can say ‘unfair.’ It’s very helpful when Lardo has to collect fines, so she always makes sure Chowder is on duty when there are trials.

“Well? What are you all waiting for? Pay up.” She starts everything off by putting her own two dollars into one of the two bowls that Bitty located in lieu of a Ziploc bag, the one labeled SAMWELL AND ALUMS. (The other one says FALCONERS AND RETIREES.) Lardo has no idea what the money in the Samwell bowl is going to, but she’s sure Dex will find a good use for it.

While everyone else lines up to pay their respective fines, and Dex corners Jack and Bitty to tell them exactly how much they each have to pay for their fines, Lardo and Tater refill their flutes of champagne and snag the best seats on the couch.

“When we were still at Samwell, the rest of the team used to say I was the head of the Samwell Mafia,” she says to Tater.

“I believe that,” he replies. “Falconers do not have a mafia, just me and whoever sees something that should be fined. We should work together. Keep an eye on each other’s teams for fines.”

“We’ll need some more Sin Bins.”

“Is no problem.”

**Author's Note:**

> bahaha i loved writing this  
> suggestion by jxc (queercamilla on Tumblr)  
> once again, come talk to me on tumblr @birlcholtz! and if you have any suggestions for ficlets, PLEASE send them to me i always want new ideas!!


End file.
